The Halloween Monster is a scary funny story about a little girl who hears that Halloween is cancelled because something escaped from the local insane asylum. This is a true story.
Hi, my name is Amy MacKinnon. I was about two and a half, and it was told around my little neighborhood that a monster had escaped from the local insane asylum. That’s what my parents told my brothers and me. And our friends’ parents told them. And the monster was tall, and green, and really quiet, and ferocious. So they had to cancel Halloween. And we were, of course, devastated. But my parents said, well, because Halloween’s cancelled, we’ll have a party in the basement, in our basement. We’ll have all of the friends over from the neighborhood, because it would just be too dangerous to be out in the dark with a monster on the loose.
So my mother decorated our basement. She did a fantastic job. The best part I remember were the doughnuts that were hanging from a clothesline. So the party’s going really well. All of the kids are there. There are a few mothers there. The music’s playing. And all of a sudden, we heard a boom from upstairs. And my mother said, shh. And the music stopped. And my mother was near me. And then we heard boom, boom. And it was dead silence in the basement.
And a mother said, “What was that?”
And another mother said, “I think it’s the monster.”
And all of a sudden, we heard the basement door creaking open. And then I saw this enormous black boot on the first step. Boom. And then the next. Boom. And very slowly, I could see the boots, the legs, the enormous chest, and sticking straight out, two arms. And the monster came down the stairs so slowly with this green face. Its black suit was too short for it. It had bolts coming out of either side of its neck.
Once the arms were visible, chaos in the basement. Kids screaming, running everywhere. My mother was next to me. I, not quite three, grabbed hold of her thigh. And I can remember digging my fingers into her leg, trying desperately to claw onto something, screaming. And I wet my pants. And I can remember seeing my older brother Scott race for a toy chest that was under the stairs. And I can see his eyes, meeting his eyes as he slowly lowered the lid. And I was so angry that I wasn’t with him. I can remember my other brothers, Rob and Michael, leaping for the basement window, and that there must have been something under it that helped them, propelled them out the window. They jumped out the window with their friend. They ran down the street to a phone booth, somehow had a quarter, and called the police.
Meanwhile, the kids are screaming, and screaming, and screaming everywhere. And the monster is bewildered. He’s looking around. His arms are still outstretched. He’s not saying anything. He’s not grabbing for anyone. And I’m still screaming. My ears hurt because I’m screaming so loudly. And then the monster looked at me. And he said, “It’s OK, Amy. It’s OK. It’s OK.” But I couldn’t hear him anymore.
The next thing I remember is being in a little makeshift bed in my parents’ kitchen. And my mother was there. And later, after my father had showered, I can remember him walking to the kitchen. I turned my head and could see his feet. And then he crouched down to talk to me. And he said, “Amy–” But before he could get another word out, I threw up on his shoes.